Dark Prince
by claudiaswann
Summary: I knew that it wasn't a dream. For some unknown and terrifying reason, Draco Malfoy was after me. What he wanted, I still had no idea. I did know he was clever, mysterious, and had an agenda. And I wasn't about to play along. I did however, think that he offered some truly sound advice: RUN.
1. Chapter 1: Run

At the time, all I knew was that he was after me. I didn't know what he wanted exactly, but it was all too clear that I was of unhealthy interest to him. I'd been on the run for weeks- staying with friends, grandparents, old co-workers; bouncing from couch to guest bedroom, to motel room. Filled with a feeling of great dread and exhilaration, I told no one. My friends and family often gave me furrowed, questioning looks when I requested that they keep their silence about my stay, but I had good reason.

My getaway vehicle was an ancient blue Volkswagen Beetle: old Nellie, I called her. She had steadily gotten me nearly halfway across the country. I had to travel without magic; he could find me if I apparated, or used a portkey or the Floo network. I stood up from the mess of blankets covering the sofa, and began folding. Once the mess was neatly tucked away, muted television turned off, I penned a quick note to my old Hogwarts friend, and slipped out her front door.

The morning was too young. The dawn was pale and a thick fog had settled over the suburban neighborhood. I made my way down the walkway to old Nellie, parked on the street. Unlocking the door, a shiver crept up my spine and I was filled with dread. I was being watched. He was here. _Can't these keys go any faster? _I was furious with myself as I fumbled with the lock. My stomach was tying itself into knots as I crawled into the driver's seat, closed the door behind me, and rapidly slammed the locks down. I put the keys in the ignition and start the car, wildly looking around for my stalker. I didn't have to look far; he leaned against the mailbox of my old friend's house, a casual smirk across his face. It'd been weeks since he'd last made an appearance. I knew it was time. This was it: his agenda.

I studied him for a moment, through the passenger window. He was dressed grandly, in a grey blazer missing any affection from a bow or tie. His pale skin was accented by pale blond hair, and his lips bowed into a perfectly subtle grin. Eyes of icy steel were cold and calculating. I made a look of disgust, put my car into gear and sped away. Pulling out my cell phone, I quickly dialed Angelina, whose house I'd just left behind. She had married a muggle, and conveniently had a cell phone. She answered groggily, I'd clearly woken her. "Hello?"

"Hi Angelina, I'm so sorry I had to dash early. I think I forgot to lock the door, will you check for me?" This was a lie, I'd locked the handle, but I wanted her to be awake and alert. He was there.

"You left the door wide open!" She exclaimed after a moment, startled. I froze, and old Nellie screeched to a halt. I hadn't left the door open. The bottom fell out of my stomach and I was truly frightened. Do I turn around? Do I keep driving? Just as I'd made the decision to whip Nellie around, I heard his silky voice coming through my phone:

"Oh, won't you come play, Granger?" A woman's screams followed this bleak statement. I'd already turned Nellie around, driving fiercely back towards Angelina's small suburban home. I hadn't made it far, perhaps five or six blocks at most. When I pulled up, however, the house was engulfed in flames. Angelina lay sobbing on her front lawn, surrounded by a small gaggle of neighborhood muggles: runners, neighbors, cross-guards, children on their way to the bus stop. I flew out of my car and to her side, yelling for someone to call an ambulance. I wrapped my arms around her shaking shoulders as she sobbed into the ground.

"It- it- it was M-M-Malfoy. He s-said there's n-no avoiding it," She sobbed, now onto my lap. "T-told me to tell y-you." The automatic sprinklers came on then, and we were soaked. She cried, and I probably did too.

TWO MONTHS EARLIER:

It was late, well past midnight, and I closed my laptop, exhausted. I had been working as an intern in the Muggle Liaison Office at the Ministry of Magic for the past year. While rewarding, I was overworked, underpaid and frequently exhausted. I brushed my teeth quickly and undressed, donning my blue silk robe. I went to the door to let Crookshanks inside for the night. He was looking old these days, but was ever my faithful companion. I stepped out on my flat's patio and called "Crookshanks, here kitty-kitty, Crookshanks come inside!" My orange cat ran happily to me and after a quick pet, slipped inside, presumably for some kibble. I turned to follow, but was halted by a voice.

"Hello, Granger." Startled, I whipped around and saw a painfully familiar man standing on my patio, his arms behind his back, wearing a white button up shirt and black pants under his wizard robes. I don't make a habit of midnight conversations with anyone, let alone old nemeses. I hadn't seen Malfoy in the two years since Voldemort's demise. He hadn't returned to Hogwarts like the rest of us, to finish our last year. I had read in the Daily Prophet that his father had died in Azkaban, and he and his mum still lived in Malfoy Manor.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" I tried not to sneer. Old habits.

"Waiting for you, of course." He replied. I smiled and nodded uncomfortably, then turn to hurry inside. He stopped me, his hand suddenly on my shoulder, and I was forced to turn and face him. _Was he drunk?_ "You grew up nicely." He observed. _Yep, definitely drunk_.

"Thanks…" I told him cautiously, taking a step backwards, closer to my patio door. For each step I took back, he took a step forward. My back eventually hit the sliding glass door, which moments before open, was now latched shut. Had I locked myself out of my own home in the middle of the night?_ Great going, Hermione_. I chided myself. I pulled my wand out of my thin silk robe pocket.

"Err.. stay back!" I warned. I was frightened, but fear does not cripple me. _I am a Gryffindor, after all._ Malfoy laughed, and closed the gap between us easily with one more step. I could feel his body against mine, his face just mere inches from my own. "What are you doing? Stop!" I try to sidestep his apparent affections, to no avail. He was not violent, or rough, but frighteningly willful, not listening to any of my protests. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

"Granger, we are going to know each other very well, very soon." His voice is like soft velvet, soothing, but there is a primal voice within me, urging me to RUN! Just as I think perhaps running is a grand idea, I find myself light headed; a falling sensation engulfs me, followed swiftly by nothing but darkness.

I awoke the next day in my soft bed. I think perhaps I've had a nightmare, or a frightening fantasy, I'm not quite sure which. I recalled a dark stranger, a terribly handsome man that stirred up a great fright within me. Who had it been? The harder I tried to remember, the more the details slipped away. An old friend? _No_. It must have been a dream. I go downstairs to the kitchen and start the coffee. Crookshanks jumps on the countertop to greet me for the morning. A feeling of unease fills me, as I scratch his ears. I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

The morning passed as expected, and before I knew it I was flooing into the Ministry for my work day. I was part of a team that conducted field interviews with Muggles who have had undue contact with the magical world. I assessed if they needed a memory charm, or other less drastic means of persuasion. The day goes on, client after client, visit after visit. I was sitting at a cafe after my last interview, looking down at my last memory contract and registration- dull paperwork- when a voice jolts me. "Not long now," it said.

I looked up in unrecognized horror, and saw a handsome man standing in front of me. It was Malfoy. Suddenly, the events of late last night come flooding back to me. I was angry and shaken: how could I have forgotten? What did he want? "Excuse me?" I asked, "Can I help you, Malfoy?" He smirked.

"A mudblood like you? Actually, you can and will. But not just yet. I'll be seeing you soon, Granger." He swaggered out the front doors, hands stuffed in his pockets, not looking back once.

_What the hell? _

I quickly forgot the odd encounter as the day whirled by. Twenty-one interviews today! That was nearly a record, and made for a busy afternoon. I hadn't had a moment to dwell on my strange and unsettling encounters with Malfoy. It wasn't until I pulled up at my home that a vaguely familiar, queer sensation filled me. It was excitement mixed with dread. He knew where I lived.

I was on high alert as I walked through the night to the door, unlocking it with a wave of my wand, and entered my home. The air seemed different, perhaps it was my own bizarre fear- but there was an electric feel to my whole house. I remembered my dream-_ it wasn't a dream-_ and Malfoy's odd taunting , and my unease deepened. The evening proceeded as any other, without incident. I fed my cat and climbed into bed, sure that I was just having an "off-day."

A metallic scraping noise woke me from my slumber. I rolled over and looked at the clock: 2:01 A.M. I tried to shut out the noise and fall back asleep, but the repetitive scratching noise would not cease. What was that? I grumpily threw the blankets off me, slipped my feet into some fuzzy slippers, and went to stop whatever obnoxious noise was keeping me from sleep. Was it coming from inside or outside? I couldn't tell. I stopped in my darkened living room to listen, to discern which direction the wretched noise was coming from. It stopped. Silence met me, in my living room. But silence wasn't all.

"Hello Granger." His breath was on the back of my neck, and I knew that this was no dream. Confusion clashed with anger, mixed with deep fear and panic. My wand was all the way upstairs. I did share thin walls with my neighbor: a good scream for help ought to do. I filled my lungs with air, ready to belt out a brilliant call for help, when his hand stifled my mouth completely. It was warm and strong. "Now, Granger. Screaming will not do." He inhaled deeply, smelling my hair, my ear. "Not here. Not yet." His lips brushed my ear. "Don't forget about me now."

He was gone with a crack. It was as if he was never in my living room, as if he'd never touched me. I ran to the door, which was locked. I ran to every window in the house, confirming that they too, were locked. I checked my wards, and anti-apparition charms. All intact. Was he still here? Did I imagine the whole thing? Am I dreaming now? Should I call Harry, or Ron? They shared a flat nearby, and I had gotten Harry a cell phone last Christmas.

I didn't call them. I could hardly convince myself it was real, let alone them. I couldn't sleep. I laid in bed, wide eyed, for the remainder of the night. I groggily made coffee, and headed to work the next morning. I asked my coworker and good friend Luna to come stay with me, feigning emotional fatigue, saying I just needed the company. She came that day, and I didn't see or dream of Malfoy for a week. I had nearly written off the whole thing as a psychological episode or nightmare: perhaps I truly was emotionally fatigued, chalking it up as too many long days at the Ministry.

Coming home one night nearly a week after the "encounters" (as I'd begun to refer to them) I meandered into my living room and promptly fainted- quite unlike me. When I came to, disbelief, fear and inconsolable frustration raged through my entire self. For, crouching down next to me, arm around my blond, giggling, unsuspecting friend, was Draco Malfoy. He grinned at my wild eyes, and asked "Granger, do you make a habit of keeling over like a fainting goat?" I stood up entirely too fast and stumbled. He caught me and I pushed back aggressively, ricocheting into the wall behind me. "What are YOU doing here?" I growled. I knew now that this was not a dream. He was a real, breathing nightmare.

"Bygones!" Luna cried, as she sidled up to him. "It's been years, you two!" He put his arm around her and winked at me.

"Bygones." He says, and anger boils my blood as he confirms what I had only begun to suspect. He is playing some game; but if I tell Luna… she'll think I've gone mad._ Is she in danger? Am I?_ These thoughts rushed through my head in a flurry as I raced upstairs to my room, slamming the door behind me. I fumed for hours that night, wondering, imagining, playing through various scenarios in my head. What did he want? His family had renounced the dark arts with the fall of Voldemort. I couldn't imagine Malfoy getting caught up in any sort of dark plot after what his family had been through.

It was nearly midnight when I gathered up enough courage to ask him. I could hear him and Luna downstairs, making popcorn and watching television. The whole idea of Malfoy watching muggle television and spending time with Luna Lovegood seemed so ludicrous that I- once again- questioned my reality.

I opened my bedroom door intent on answers, and immediately come face to face with him. My heart skipped a beat: was he waiting for me? Why was he standing outside my door?

"What do you want Malfoy?" I glared at him. "Why are you bothering me?" I took a step back, being too close for comfort. He took a step forward. I took another step back; he took another step forward, smoothly closing my bedroom door behind him, never tearing his eyes from mine. _Shit_. "Well?! What are you doing? Why are you following me?" I grabbed a nearby vase and brandished it aggressively as a weapon. There was something unnatural about him. More than just the creepy stalking behavior. His lips quirked into a shadow of a smile.

"It's nearly time, Granger. Then I'll have you."

I was confused and angry. Time for what? Like hell, he'll have me! _Has he lost his mind? _"Why are you here?" Is the question I settled on. He raised his eyebrows.

"I couldn't resist." He closed the gap between us and grabbed the back of my head, pulling my face closer to his. He simply held me in place and stared into my eyes, our noses nearly touching. I stared back into his eyes for a moment, they were bright like grey steel. "I'm going to get you." He said, almost playfully. Those words scared me more than any of our encounters, and I ripped away, leaping backwards. A predatory look engulfs his face, and he pounces after me, pinning me to the wall. "Please run," he begs with a wicked smile on his face. I squeezed my eyes shut, waited for the blow, the violation, the forceful violence I was sure was coming. But it never came. I opened my eyes and he was gone, and morning had yet again come.

I knew it wasn't a dream. I knew that, for an unknown reason, Draco Malfoy was after me. In what way, I didn't know. What he wanted, I still had no idea. I did know he was clever, mysterious, and had an agenda. And I wasn't about to play along. I did however, think that he offered some true advice: RUN.


	2. Chapter 2: Boys, Burrow & Bears

It took me several days to shake off the nasty feeling Malfoy had left me with. It felt like unfinished business. I asked Luna to return home that morning. I wasn't sure what game Malfoy was playing, but I knew I didn't want to drag Luna into the middle of it.

"Are you sure, Hermione?" She asked with those wide, concerned eyes.

"I'm sure!" I said quickly. "I'm feeling much better! Thanks so much for coming to stay with me while I wasn't feeling myself. You're a good friend, Luna." I smiled at her, and she beamed back. We hadn't talked about Malfoy. To Luna bygones really were bygones.

I met Harry and Ron for breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron the following day. They went on and on about auror training. They were learning about concealment and disguise this week, which sounded fairly interesting.

"I'm lousy at it." Ron said, shoveling eggs into his mouth.

"Are you practicing?" I prompted, sternly. He looked away and wiped his mouth.

"Sure I am." Harry laughed.

"Anyhow, Hermione how is work? Luna said she stayed with you for a week or so." He paused, waiting for an explanation. Harry knew me well enough to know that I prefer living alone, and it was unusual for me to invite others to stay with me for any reason or time. I sighed.

"Well, you see… Malfoy showed up on my patio one night and…" I didn't get to finish my sentences.

"WHAT?!" Harry roared

"You're bloody joking!" Ron exclaimed, before choking on his sausage. He coughed, and Harry slapped him hard on the back.

"Explain." Harry demanded, after Ron stopped coughing. It was the reaction I had feared. I told them of all of my encounters, skipping the more intimate bits that might escalate the already uncomfortable situation.

"What a whack job!" Ron said, after I'd finished. "Hermione how the hell is he getting into your flat? What is he up to?" I shook my head.

"I don't know." Harry looked thoughtful; he hadn't said anything throughout my explanation or following it.

"Hermione I don't like this. He is threatening you, stalking you! You should come stay with us." He said.

I shook my head. What kind of woman or Gryffindor would I be if I ran to Harry and Ron for every little disturbance in my life? I could handle this. I could handle Malfoy. I just needed to figure out his game. "No… I'll be alright."

They argued. For two hours they tried to conMalfoy me to come stay with them, go stay with Ginny at the Burrow, go to my parent's house… but I refused. I was an adult, a grown woman capable of handling my own problems. I would read up on home defense charms and strengthen my home security. I would live my life without fear of Malfoy's creepy interference. Or so I thought.

Two weeks later and I hadn't heard from or seen Malfoy. I had received a promotion at work, and was now first assistant to the Head of the Muggle Liaison Office. The promotion had come as a surprise; I was only an intern and there were several seemingly better qualified witches and wizards who were passed by. But the pay raise was welcome, and the promotion meant less time in the field conducting interviews and interventions, and more time at Ministry headquarters.

It was because of this that I felt the need for a break mid afternoon. My new but cramped office didn't have a window, and I missed the outside world. I grabbed my parka and purse, and headed to a muggle diner a few blocks down the street. After being seated, I ordered a cup of coffee and a sandwich and poured over _The Daily Prophet_. I hid it discreetly as the waitress dropped off my food.

I was absorbed in an article detailing a new law to uphold generous goblin rights, when someone slid into the booth across from me.

"Hello, Granger." He drawled. My stomach clenched, and I glanced up to meet his steely gaze.

"Malfoy." I continued reading the article, but wasn't absorbing anything my eyes touched. Panic was boiling inside of me, but I maintained a cool affect. He snatched the paper from my fingers, and glanced down at the article. He snorted.

"Granger I think it's time we talked." I opened my mouth to tell him off, but he interrupted, "Congratulations on your promotion." He said unexpectedly, and gave me a wicked grin.

"Malfoy, what's this about?" I asked quietly, looking him straight in the eyes. My stomach flipped. He sighed.

"Well Granger, I've been busy since leaving Hogwarts. I've spent a considerable amount of time trying to… recover, the Malfoy name." I stared at him, amazed he was finally explaining. "I've spent a rather a lot of time in the States, and have established good relations with the Magical Congress of the United States." My brain defaulted to every fact I had ever read about the MCUS, streaming through my mind like a catalog. It was a rather rigid government, and the British Ministry of Magic did not always see eye to eye with the MCUS. What the hell was Malfoy doing with the MCUS?

"...public relations." Crap, I had tuned out and missed something seemingly important.

"What?" He rolled his eyes.

"I said, because of my close ties with the MCUS the Minister has agreed to allow me to step into the role of Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, but there are concerns regarding public relations." I snorted, half disbelieving half exasperated. I just bet there were public relations concerns. Having an ex-Death-Eater as the head of your Department of International Magical Cooperation? That's just bad PR. Malfoy smirked at me. "Laugh now Granger, you won't be laughing for long." That was unnecessarily ominous. I waited for him to continue.

"The… agreement that I made with the minister, is to marry a mudblood." He spat these last words out like they tasted bad in his mouth. I stared at him, dumbfounded. He continued, "I'm progressive enough to consider this, and I have. You're the mudblood I want."

Dumbfounded, I began giggling. Then laughing. Then laughing uncontrollably, my sides aching. It was so ludicrous; the idea that this was the reason he was haunting me for the past weeks and months. Such a farfetched impossibility, it was positively ridiculous. He did not look amused, he looked serious. After a moment I sobered, took a sip of my coffee and said, "No. Of course not, Malfoy! We hate each other. It's outrageous for you to even ask."

He leaned forward and growled, "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you." I brushed him off; this was no serious possibility.

"Get some other muggle born to marry you Malfoy. This one isn't interested. I'm sure it won't be hard with your …"_ Money and muscles,_ is how I was going to finish that sentence, but wisely left it unsaid. His biceps were perfectly sculpted and evident under his casual black tee shirt. I didn't notice.

"You're a PR wet dream Granger: Potter's trusted sidekick, war hero, elf right advocate, assistant to the Head of Muggle Liaison Office." He leaned further across the table and met my eyes. "I'm not taking no for an answer." He grasped my left hand, waved his wand and to my horror, a huge, silver, princess cut diamond ring encircled my ring finger. It had emeralds surrounding the enormous diamond. I snatched my hand back and immediately pulled on the ring to remove it. It wouldn't budge.

"_Finite Incantatem_!" I cried, pointing my own wand at the ring. It still wouldn't come off. I tried a dozen other spells right then and there, panicking. Malfoy only smirked across the table as my panic grew.

"I told you, Granger. You're mine. I'll be by your flat to collect you next week. _Mrs. Malfoy_." He laughed cruelly and shook his head, as if to comment on both of their luck. And then he disappeared.

That night I packed a bag hurriedly. One week's worth of clothes, some travel toiletries, my laptop and cell phone. I packed some granola bars and bananas, filled my water bottle, and called into work. I was going to stay at the Burrow, which was well protected and currently occupied only by Ginny. She was ecstatic when I called her, happy to have a visitor. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been in Romania visiting Charlie for the past two weeks, and Ginny was lonely. I didn't want to bother Harry and Ron with this: they had both reacted so badly, when I spoke to them about Malfoy over lunch last month. They would undoubtedly overreact and curse Malfoy into oblivion, getting themselves kicked out of auror training. I smothered a small laugh and sob at the thought.

The ring was still affixed to my left ring finger. Each time I glanced at it, a massive pit opened up in my stomach. I oscillated between rage, fear and loathing. How dare he come into my life and unhinge what I had worked so hard to achieve? How dare he demand _marriage_ of me, whom he hated? How dare he taunt and stalk and coerce me? I stomped my foot in frustration, as I glanced down at the ring once again. Slytherin colors._ Bastard_.

I arrived at the Burrow that evening, travel weary but welcoming the familiar smells and sounds of the happy home. I was pleased, relieved to be far from my troubling burdens. I'd been on high alert for the entire trip, looking for blond, smirking travelers at rest stops and gas stations.

Thinking my escape successful, I knocked on the wooden front door of my favorite family's home.To my complete and utter horror, Malfoyopened the door. A casual smirk was plastered across his face as he stood back and gestured me inside. I stumbled my way inside, bewildered and frightened. Ginny sat in the sitting room on a couch looking miserable. I fell to the floor at her feet.

"Are you alright?! What is he doing here?" I asked in rush, grasping her hands and looking into her face. She mumbled that she was fine, but wouldn't say anymore.

"Why are you here?" I spat at him from my position on the floor.

"You know why I'm here, Granger. I begged you to run, afterall. Only, I don't share my possessions well." He stared hard at me, then glanced at Ginny. He looked truly angry. His anger was nothing to mine, which was steadily increasing. _Possession_?

I attacked him. I physically jumped onto his back and clawed at his eyes, punched his head, his stomach, his ribs… anything I could reach I pummeled. This went on for what felt like several exhausting moments, before I felt myself being picked up and restrained. He was cradling me like a child, subduing both my wrists with one hand, and shaking with laughter. "You bastard! You son of a bitch! Who do you think you are? I'll kill you!" I attempted to thrash but was well restrained. _Where was my wand? I'm a witch for God's sake._ He was still shaking with laughter. I was shaking with rage, with angst and confusion. _How could this happen? _"Put me down!"

He lowered my feet to the ground, but continued to hold my wrists. He took several steps forward, backing me into a wall. "You're going to have to do better than that." He whispered, too close to my lips. He let go of my wrists, and put two wands in my hand. "Yours, and the weasels. See you next week."

I shook myself, and brought Ginny her wand. She looked apprehensive. "Hermione… what's going on?" I shook my head.

"I'm really not sure Ginny. What happened? How did Malfoy get in here?"

"I came in from the garden and he was sitting at the kitchen table. He disarmed me, and told me to sit in the living room until you arrived. He swore if I behaved no one would get hurt... I'm so embarrassed! I hate that stupid ferret!" Angry tears streamed down her cheek. "Why did he come here?"

"Ginny, I think I have to go. I'm so sorry! Malfoy and I have... some unfinished business, and I can't say just what yet. But I have to get away from him right now. I swear I will explain when I can." How could I explain my predicament to her? I could hardly grasp it myself. I could see the hurt in her eyes, hurt because I was refusing to confide in her. I kissed her cheek swiftly, grabbed my bag and a handful of floo powder, stepped into the fireplace, and cried "Diagon Alley!"

I all but ran to Gringotts. I needed muggle money. Muggle money, to disappear into the muggle world while I got my bearings. The muggle world, where Malfoy would not follow.

As if I had planned it, I bought a ticket to the States. I landed in Las Vegas, and bought an old Volkswagen beetle. I was afraid that he had tracked me to the Burrow because I had used magic to get there, and he seemed to have ministry access. Magic can be traced.

I drove far, aimlessly, and for many days. I slept in my car, ate terrible gas station food, and avoided rest stops. Eventually I found myself in Northern Colorado. The sunshine was welcoming, the mountains beautiful, and the air fresh and cool. I had a bit of money saved up, so rented a motel on the outskirts of Estes Park, in the majestic Rocky Mountains. After a good nap and shower, I felt rejuvenated, and decided to go for a hike in the nearby National Forest. I purchased bear spray at a nearby hiking store, aware of the bear proof garbage vesicles outside of every residence. I spotted a "Bear Crossing" sign and laughed out loud. The sun was shining brilliantly, long grasses and trees surrounded me, and I could smell wildflowers in the air. My worries were far away, in another world.

I'd had plenty of time to reflect while driving to sunny Colorado. Malfoy had undeniably violated my privacy, and had threatened me under multiple circumstances. I didn't feel like I could go to the authorities, and if I did I suspect they wouldn't find any trace of Malfoy's interferences. He appeared and disappeared so suddenly that sometimes I myself wonder if I'm just having some kind of psychotic break. But the ring still affixed to my left ring finger said otherwise.

The trail I was hiking was a loop that took me up to a peak and viewpoint. Bikers whizzed past me every few miles, and I wasn't completely alone in my solitude. I was contemplating my predicament. How could I return to my life and avoid Malfoy's apparently persistent plan to marry me? I tripped slightly over a red, jutting rock, and was just trying not to wonder how Malfoy ever made such stalky, silent appearances, when he made one.

I came round a tree hugging the path, and there he sat waiting atop a large flat-topped boulder. He stood, jumping down from the rock and quickly closing the space between us. He kissed my hand. I was astonished and frightened and frustrated all at once. I step back, and he steps forward. _This again_. I rolled my eyes, deciding to stay put. "Are you here to kidnap me, yet?" I asked, a bit mockingly. I hoped the sarcasm disguised the wobble in my voice._ How did he find me?_ His eyes widened, surprised, and then danced. He seemed delighted by my mockery.

"Wouldn't you like to know." He said softly. It wasn't a question. He stepped to the left and circled me slowly. _What is he doing? _I was distinctly uncomfortable and uncharmed. "Not today." He answered my query. "I would like to know what you're doing in the Rocky Mountains, however." He raised his eyebrows and stared down at me.

"Let's call it a vacation." I retorted grumpily. He laughs. "And you, Malfoy, what are you doing in the Rocky Mountains?"

"Protecting you from bears." He turns and pulls himself with ease into the tree just behind us, perching on a branch about seven feet above the ground. He reaches down and offers his hand to me, seemingly urgent. It's only then that I noticed that he was wearing a tuxedo in the middle of the forest, and his cufflinks were silver. I grudgingly take his impatient hand, and he pulls me easily onto the thick branch. I wobble a bit, and he steadies me. My leg scraped against the trunk on the way up and was bleeding; I was annoyed. "Now look, just here." His voice is a whisper.

Below us I hear a rustling of dried twigs, and two black bear cubs tumble out of some thick shrubbery onto the trail below. Mama bear proceeds them, head bobbing left and right, and she seems to grunt and snort. The bear family stop for a moment below us, and I try not to breath. Forgetting where I am and who is sitting next to me, I gaze unto this beautiful little family with awe. I was so lost in the moment that when I look up into Malfoy's grey eyes, intensely watching me, I nearly fall off the branch. I certainly make a bit of a racket, and the bears below are disturbed. The cubs scamper quickly back into the thicket, and mama bear follows quickly after.

Malfoy was still watching me, his arm still on mine, having steadied me moments before. I wasn't sure that he'd saved me. Perhaps he had, perhaps that mama bear would have ripped me to shreds. Perhaps her and her baby cubs would have chosen a different route. Perhaps my bear spray would have deterred them… it had a 30 foot spray span, after all. In any case we had shared yet another intimate moment, this one far less obtrusive than the ones before. I realized that I was studying him as much as he was studying me.

"Why are you saving me from bears in the Rocky Mountains? How did you follow me here?" Birds chirped in the foliage around us. An elk meandered by, below us.

He rolled his eyes, all pretense of courtly love evaporating. "Strategy, Granger. You're my ticket back to the top. We're getting married. Soon. Consider this me investing in my future." To my astonishment and rage he reached out and pinched my nipple, hard. I whimpered and he didn't let go. He stepped close to me. "Stop fighting this, Granger. You belong to me now." My breath was caught in my throat, and my heart skipped several beats. I was ashamed that a jolt of ...something, stirred beneath my abdomen. He smirked as if he knew, released me, and apparated.

He left me alone in the Rocky Mountains, with tears streaming down my face, out of breath and surely out of my mind.


	3. Chapter 3: Waiting

It had been a week since Colorado. I was avoiding my home and my friends and anyone I would typically be in contact with. Draco- Malfoy- had checked in with me twice since the Rocky Mountains, and I was beginning to suspect that the ring stuck on my finger was a magical tracking device of some sort. He seemed to be able to find me, anytime and anywhere. It was disheartening, for one who was trying to run and escape. I began scrupulously researching tracking charms and their removal in any spare time I could muster.

At times Malfoy seemed amused at our predicament, at other times he seemed disgusted with it. He had yet to make good on his promise to "take me" despite days and weeks passing. I remained frustrated and terrified. I had nightmares of waking up in Malfoy Manor, a prisoner. It seemed an almost inevitable future, try as I might.

On one curious occasion, a brown haired blue-eyed American named Calvin introduced himself to me, after Malfoy had left me shaken at a rooftop restaurant in Portland, Oregon.

"Excuse me miss? I can't help but notice you look a bit upset. Was Draco Malfoy bothering you?" He approached me hesitantly. He was nicely dressed, and had a friendly smile on his lips. His statement garnered my immediate attention. Who knows Malfoy in these parts of the States? "I'm Calvin, pleased to meet you." He held out his hand, and after I shook it he sat down across from me.

"Well, Calvin, who are you and how do you know Draco Malfoy?" I asked abruptly, wiping angry tears from my eyes. He smirked. The smirk was hauntingly familiar and I was instantly uncomfortable.

"Draco is my… cousin." His words were short and gave little in the way of information. He took another sip of coffee. I took in Calvin's attire: cargo shorts, T-Shirt, sandals and sunglasses. The man looked like he belonged on a beach. Nothing could be further from the icey cool Draco Malfoy. Cousins, indeed.

"I think I'm in danger, Calvin." I started, keeping the fear from my voice.

"How perceptive of you." His voice had a sarcastic edge. "Hermione I advise that you hide yourself far from here. Far from anyone you know, far from any place you've ever been." He paused, unsure whether to go on. "It is important that you not run, but hide. The thrill is in the chase, and you've no comprehension of what he will do when he catches you." I was afraid. His American accent was thick.

Calvin stood and walked to the rooftop staircase. "Leave here, Hermione, and hide. Stay well, friend." I realized, a few moments too late, that I had never told him my name. _How had he known?_

I chased after him, but he was gone. I turned round and round on the empty sidewalk, but found nothing but a normal afternoon. I fell to my knees and screamed, letting my fear, rage and frustration leak out of my soul through my voice. Tears fell angrily down my face. Passerbyers stared, but I didn't care. I found my car, and locked the doors. Speeding back to my motel I packed my things in flurry, and made myself a roast beef sandwich for the road.

I headed then to old Nellie, parked in a dingy parking garage. I threw my bag in the trunk and slipped into the driver's seat. "Do you think he is as handsome as me?" I nearly died of fright, as the unexpected man in the passenger seat makes his inquiry. I jumped out of the car, but he is already there at my side, closing the driver's door behind me. "Well, is he?" Malfoy asks again, a dangerous edge to his voice. I'd never heard such danger and contempt come from him, and it was terrifying.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?!" I exclaim. Our encounter was odd, I was treating him more as an old acquaintance than a terrifying supernatural stalker, which he was.

"Don't change the subject. My American cousin. Why was he here?" His voice darkened. It became apparent that there was bad blood between these cousins, and little love.

"He was warning me about you." I said honestly, and felt compelled to add "And he was quite dashing." _Still honest_. Malfoy's entire stature darkened, and I was instantly quite afraid. Even more afraid.

"Beware of my cousin, Hermione. He is a lying bastard. I might take you, but he could kill you. Until we meet again." He kissed my hand, and disappeared.

My brain was boggled. I slowly got back into old Nellie, and pulled out of the parking garage. Where I was going, I had no idea. Who to believe, I had not a clue. I was lost, and alone, and I missed my cat. And I _hated_ Draco Malfoy.

"I called an ambulance, are you ladies alright?" A kind voice said over the flames of Angelina's burning home.

I stood, soaking wet, to thank the good samaritan for his help, and met a pair of haunting grey eyes. Malfoy smiled brilliantly, and a jolt raced up my entire body. I wanted to say so many things to him. _Why me? Why are you doing this? Where will you take me? Leave me alone!_ My eyes and soul burned with anger and fear, as I stared at him. It had been weeks since I lay eyes on him, since he promised me my darkest day. He put a hand on my shoulder and said calmly "You look shaken, perhaps I should give you a ride to the hospital?" His mischievous smile did not match the grim predicament both Angelina and myself were in.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"I suspect you will soon find out."

"Hardly." My stomach fluttered, as I remembered his promise from our last encounter_. _I pulled my cell phone out and hurriedly dialed 9-1-1. "Hi, I'm reporting a house completely on fire. 12th Avenue and Tyler. Her name is Angelina McArthy. Hermione Granger. No, I won't stay on the line. Wonderful, thank you." I hung up and glared at Malfoy. He seemed to be waiting for something. I spun on my heel and head back towards old Nellie. I climbed into the driver's side; of course he was in the passenger seat before I could even think of putting the keys in the ignition.

"What are you doing?" He asked, appearing genuinely curious.

"Leaving." I said, as if it were obvious. "I think we've caused these folks enough harm, don't you?" He shrugged and reclined in his seat, not bothering to buckle his seatbelt. "Who the hell do you think you are? Setting my old friend's house on fire! You're lucky she doesn't have children! You're lucky no one died!" I was fuming, terrified and angry. "I'm so sick of this bullshit, of the waiting and terrorizing." I glanced at him. "What am I waiting for?" It was a real question, for I could not shake the sense I was waiting for something.

"You're waiting for me." That seemed true enough.

"Is today the day?" I asked, nervously. What did that even mean?

"Yes." By now we were driving down picturesque highway 101, right along the coast of the Pacific Ocean. I braked and steered old Nellie into a scenic pullout, overlooking the raging sea.

My heart was thudding in my chest, my stomach writhing, as he stepped out of the car and opened my door, offering me his hand. I refused it, and stepped out of my car on my own accord.

"Do I get to ask questions?" The wind blew strong, and the sand was moist under my feet.

"Don't you always?"

Undeterred, I asked "Will you answer my questions?"

"Some." I was exasperated, and he was vague as ever. We were nearly yelling over the wind and roar of the tide. He stopped, pulling out two strips of long blue cloth from a hidden pocket. He smirked at me. "I think I'm rather going to enjoy this bit." I became uneasy.

"Wait. What are you doing? Where are we going? Tell me first." I pleaded. I knew I was at his mercy. I always have been, I realized. Ever since he charmed this damned ring onto my finger. He pulls me close to him, locks his eyes onto mine, and binds my wrists together while never breaking his gaze. He smells like mint and leather. Keen smirk still in place, he then placed a blue silk cloth over my eyes. As he ties the knot at the back of my head, he pulls me close and his lips touch mine, surprising me. Softly at first, gently we kissed, but then more aggressively and intensely. Exhilaration overcame me, I moaned into him as his tongue pushed its way into my mouth and I felt him smirk against me. Dizziness prevailed, and I lost consciousness. _Damn him. _

I awoke in a cold place. The floor was cold underneath me, the air seemed moist and cool above me. A damp smell hung in the air, and I was still blindfolded and bound. _Where am I? Where is Malfoy? Should I cry out, or stay silent? _I opted to sit in silence, soaking up what little information I could. I was in a cold, damp, dark place. _Keen observation, Granger_. I scold myself. _What else?_ I could hear very little noise around me, no ocean, no other people, just the occasional rustle or scamper of what I assumed to be rodents. Once, something furry brushed up against my bound hands. I bit my tongue to hold back a scream. I waited for what seemed like hours, fuming, imagining what I would say to that pompous, self loathing…

"Granger," His velvet voice reached my waiting ears, with no warning of approach. He was close. Close enough to land a blow on, I was sure. "Let's go upstairs, I've no idea why they've put you in the dungeons."

"Perhaps it because I'm tied up like a bloody prisoner, you son of a bitch. Can you take these bloody awful ribbons off?" I thrash most un-daintily against the silken restraints and he chuckles. "Not just yet." He scooped me up, positioning my bound arms around his neck, and moved quickly through what felt like narrow corridors. I could feel my clothes brush against walls and doorways, giving me a sense of tight passageways. After a few moments of brisk walking he sets me down in a plush chair and removes the blindfold.

I am astonished instantly as I gaze around at the majestic chamber. Fireplaces line all four walls, casting dancing shadows all across the room. Six great marble pillars hold up an arching ceiling painted with detailed scenes of farms, weddings, schools, markets and various other festivities. Majestic tapestries adorned the walls, and rich carpets covered the stone floors. Plush chairs and sofas were arranged in various groupings, around grand bookshelves and unfamiliar wooden board games. There was a second floor above, entirely books. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, alight with the reflection of the many candles dappled across this cavernous hall.

"What is this place?" I ask, incredulously.

"Home." Malfoy replied neatly, sitting across from me in a high backed, stately chair. I've just noticed that my clothes appear to have been changed; I am now wearing a floor length forest green silk dress.

I blush and ask, "Who changed my clothes?" Malfoy bites his lip and replies.

"One of the house elves."

"Oh." He was finally answering my questions. "It is incredible in here." My astonishment temporary dampened my temper.

"Thank you." The degree of politeness in this situation was ridiculous. I've been kidnapped, and here I was complimenting my kidnappers home_. You didn't put up much of a fight now did you?_ My subconscious reminded me spitefully. Well, it's not like I had much of a choice anyway. Best to get it over with.

"Well, out with it then." I said, disregarding niceties. He quirked an eyebrow. "What is the plan?" He leaned forward, fingers together, elbows on his knees. I leaned forward too, and realized my wrists were still bound.

"It's simple. We are to be married in three days. I'll be named Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and you are going to be locked away here until you can learn to be a proper wife. " My brain melted into an unruly pile of goo, as I tried to decipher what I'd just been told. _Proper wife? Locked away? Married in three days? No. Just… no. _

"You look positively breathtaking in that dress. I was right, it suits you."

Months of fear, of running, of exhausting, draining unease, hundreds of dollars of gas; all for the sake of politics. I could throttle him, and stood vengefully to do so. I crossed the distance between us and angrily stood before him, then realized of course, that my hands were still bound. Malfoy watched, amused as I rip at the ribbon with my teeth, untying the bow-like knot. I slap him then, hard across the face. He reeled, then slowly righted himself, staring daggers at me. Barely contained rage bubbled under the surface of his tightly controlled face.

"You're in my house now, Granger." Vengeful joy seemed to cross his face, as he called "Chessy! Bring my whip." It was all happening very quickly and I didn't have much time to think. I thought perhaps running would be a good idea, so run I did. I ran away from the direction he was calling, across the massive chamber, to what appeared to be a narrow hallway exit. I just barely reached the doorway when he caught up to me, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me back. "Oh Granger, I love it when you run." His tone was wicked. He then grabbed both of my wrists, tying a thick silk sash around each tightly, then proceeded to tie me to one of the many great marble columns. My face was pushed into the cold stone as the bonds were pulled tight.

He spoke from behind me, "Imagine when precious Harry Potter hears that his perfect sidekick is my wife." Malfoy laughed, "and such a good one you'll be, _Hermione_." He used my first name, and it made my blood boil. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, "You know Granger, I truly hoped to be lifting your dress under better circumstances, but you've a violent streak in you. I'm your husband, now you must be taught a lesson." He then sent the house elf away, waiting until she left the room to lift my dress and begin whipping my bottom, my back and my thighs. He whipped me until I screamed in agony. I screamed until my throat grew hoarse, until I give up my last shred of dignity, and begged him to stop.

"Please, Malfoy, pleeeease…" I sobbed, over and over.

"Oh Granger, you've-" he stroked the whip up the center of my legs "-no idea how long I've been waiting for this." He spanked me, hard with the whip. "What's my name?" He asked cruelly, whipping my back again.

"Draco. Please, please stop Draco."

"And what am I?"

"Stop, please…" I whimpered.

"I'm your fiance. Now say it. I'm your…" He whips the top backs of my thighs again and again.

"My fiance." I whispered. Silent tears stream down my face. Again I hate myself for the stirring and throbbing below my navel that this whole charade has brought on.

"Good girl." He walks around the pillar and gently untie my wrists; his gentleness is an atrocity. I slump to the ground, defeated. Malfoy pulls my dress back down and scoops me into his arms. I had nothing left in me, the fight was gone. _I suppose that was the intention, wasn't it?_ He deposited me on a couch across the same large chamber, and called for some tea. He was just draping a blanket over my limp body, when I could stay conscious no longer.


End file.
